Elephant Girl

Chapter 19: Preparations

"Do I have to wear this? Can't I just wear jeans or something?"

"To the hottest party of the year? Being the girlfriend, well fake, but still girlfriend to the hottest guy in school? And you reject the hottest dress in my closet because you want to wear jeans?"

I shrug. It's true. The dress was hot. It was a red, tight number that was cotton but felt like silk on my skin. A small piece of black fabric played as a tutu around my not so small waist. Black pumps hugged my ankles and there was a petite bow holding back a small strand of braid.

I looked good, but I must confess but I'd rather go in jeans and flip flops. Or even better, pj's. Yawn. I'm tired. I should be in bed, watching Netflix and eating brownies. Alone and happily crying over stupid sappy romance movies.

Now that's the life I should be living.

Royal throws me a light sweater since there is a little breeze in the Friday night sky. She throws one over her green strapless dress and we both exit the purple room. Thumping downstairs like fat whales (not elephants, they're adorable), we pass her dad sitting on the fluffy couch.

"Ahm," Royal's father clears his throat before flapping his newspaper against the tiny wind from the ceiling fan is producing. His bold blue eyes are exactly like Royal's striking ones and I can also see where she got her stubby yet long nose. His black curly hair has stripes here and there of gray, showing his years.

He sat there, waiting for an explanation. Royal looked like she was going to die of panic so I jumped with sudden words rolling off my tongue.

"Maria Trumps is having a fashion week sleepover. We're doing a photoshoot kind of thing and we have to go like dressed and stuff,"

"So why don't you have your bags?"

Royal finished her panic attack and seemed to catch on. She answered the rest of his questions. Her voice shook a bit but she came off as confident.

"Maria has some for us,"

"Does your mother know and agree?"

"Yes but she doesn't like to talk about it so keep it on the low, she's in a bad mood today,"

"What time will you be back?"

"In the morning,"

"What time?"

"Argh, about noon,"

Goodness. For me to get out of the house, I just told Gran I was hoping to The Bash and that I'm not sure what time I'll be home. Gran was ecstatic, excited, thrilled.

So this is what overprotective parents kids have to deal with? Wow. But sometimes I wouldn't mind having overprotective parents. Because you know, I don't have parents at all.

Well, I have one parent. But she's in rehab and I haven't talked or seen or written in weeks. I miss her. I really do. And dad. And Ellie. Without my journal or Ellie, it's hard. I just miss everything we used to be before my world was turned completely upside down.

I shake it out of my head before I burst into never ending tears. Royal hugs and kisses her father goodbye and I give a small wave. He returns it just as my phone bleeps.

Adam.

We both step out the doorframe and Royal slams the door shut. Adams bright lightning car waits on the curb and we both walked down the driveway.

You know, I never understood why a parkway is where you drive and a driveway is where you park... Like are you trying to use reverse physiology or what?

I want a burger.

Royal pulls open the door and switches the seat back, letting herself slip into the backseat. She clicks the seat back and I plop myself in the passenger seat. After clicking on my seatbelt and getting situated, I finally get a chance to peek at the handsome lad who smells of peaches (how does he do that? Not that I'm complaining!)

And he sure does look handsome. And hot. And flashing, striking, sexy. And all those synonyms. Mhmm.

He's wearing a sea blue Aero tee and jeans. He looks causal but snazzy. His curly hair is messy and uncontrolled and his brown eyes are wild. He looks fantastic.

I don't get why we girls have to dress up to parties when guys can go in pajamas and won't be judged upon. So sexist and unfair. Joking, joking.

Sort of.

Okay yes, I'm joking, I'm joking. Calm your tits.

"So, aren't you going to tell me what to do?" Adam bobs his head up and down and looks at me.

"Yep," he says, popping the 'p' like he always does. "Let your wild side out. I would say go completely insane like there's no tomorrow but my damn parents decided they wanted to come and ruin everything else."

I would usually say something about his negativity and use of words but I leave it knowing that's a rough spot for him. I don't want to be thrown out the window. I really don't.

"So um, what exactly do I do?"

"I already told you Princess. Your ears must be broken," Adam says matter of factly.

"Be specific moron," Royal states. "Just do whatever he does or just hang around with me," She adds. Oh, she's back there? I totally forgot she was in the car. Adam sometimes does that to my brain. I mean, my hunger.

Oh pickled icing of jazz instruments, I'm so hungry. They have food at these parties right? They better. Or I might turn into the hulk mixed in with a crazy moose and chicken.

It takes twenty minutes to get to Adams house. I'm sorry, I mean mansion. No forget it, castle. It had beige bricks stacking on top of each other, seeming to never end. Colossal columns held up the substantial dwelling. It was massive, every two inches a four foot window and a budding rose against the soft soil patted on the ground.

The only thing keeping me from believing it was a set for a movie or magazine shoot was the obnoxious, boisterous, deafening teenagers in it. But it was still stunning, even with this crazy thing going on. Like Adam.

"Boom clap, the sound of our hearts the beat goes on and on and on and on on!" The music blast through the erratic house.

Weren't his parents home? I mean, we were apparently going dinner with them tomorrow. I asked him instead of just pondering on thoughts that I could know the answer to.

"Hotel. They don't like staying at the house. Especially when I'm there,"

"Oh, don't say that, Adam. I'm sure that's not true,"

"Don't Princess," Adam stops walking and glares. Tricycle bananas. I forgot that was a soft spot. Or in Adam's case, an angry rough spot.

I blush slightly but thankful that its dark and there's hardly any light so he can't see me. Him calling me Princess even when he's angry finds a giggly part in my heart. Oh, Abigail.

I accidentally drop my phone on the practically plastic grass. Slopping down to snatch it up, Adam gets ahead of me.

"Come on, Princess!" He yells back, his chocolate curls bouncing in the breeze. Gosh, he looks absolutely thrilling.

"I'm coming!" I race to sped up with him. When I reached him at the white steps, his face is full of hilarity.

"Now Princess. I didn't know I made you already cum! At least save it for the bed!"

What am I going to do with this guy? I have no fudging flakes idea.

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Hey! Still in vacation so sorry I haven't updated. No edited and longer!

I'm making the chapters longer now so, yeah:)

And I'm replying to comments again because to be honest, I don't know why I stopped!

Vote and commmmment!

Love you all!

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

~loverofwriting97